


Touch Me, Tease Me

by cleverthanher



Category: Glee
Genre: Cheerio Kurt, Dirty Talk, M/M, Squirting, bp!Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:05:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1553075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleverthanher/pseuds/cleverthanher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous prompted <a href="http://cleverthanher.tumblr.com/post/79688320203/anonymous-prompted-cheerios-bp-kurt-going-to-get">on tumblr</a>: Cheerios bp!Kurt going to get a massage from Coach Blaine after pulling a muscle during Cheerios practice.</p>
<p>anonymous prompted: (bp!kurt) cheerio kurt teases coach blaine a lot during practices and coach blaine finally gives kurt what he wants. <strike>daddy kink, spanking,</strike> squirting, dirty talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch Me, Tease Me

Kurt's sitting on the bleachers, away from the rest of the team as they wait for the new coach to show up.

He supposes he's grateful that Coach Sylvester finally got fired—those rumours about the meal replacement shakes she made them drink with sand _were_ true, after all—but she was a fantastic motivator and really pushed them to their limits, accepting nothing but the best. He hopes that the new coach isn't the type to think that cheerleading is "fun"; it's a sport like any other, and most definitely not supposed to be just "fun" if they want to win.

"Look, one of the dorks from Superhero Club got lost," Kurt hears Santana stage-whisper to everyone around her.

He looks up to where she's pointing at a guy who's making their way over to them. He can't really make anything out from here, save for the red bowtie tied around his white polo. As he gets closer, Kurt realizes that it's patterned with tiny megaphones and almost coos because oh, how _precious_.

"Hey, Captain Bowties. I'll save you the humiliation of asking—you're in the wrong place and no, I don't know where your club is supposed to meet," Santana smirks, eyeing him up and down as the girls around her do the same.

The guy scans the clipboard he's holding, glancing up to look at Santana briefly before grabbing a pencil behind his ear and scribbling something. "You must be Santana Lopez."

"That's right. You no doubt heard about me from one of the football players who were stuffing you in the dumpster this morning as they gave you a duo slushie facial, hm?" She leans back, resting her arms back against the bench behind her. "I'm a bit of a legend around here."

"No, I heard about you from Coach Sylvester." Without missing a beat, he picks up the megaphone off the ground and turns it on, a loud screeching noise filling the air. "Listen up, everybody. I'm Blaine Anderson, your new cheer coach."

Kurt looks up from where he's texting to eye Blaine with a skeptical look and raise his hand. "Coach, if I may?"

"Yes..." he says, running a finger down his paper. "Kurt Hummel, go ahead."

"Are you really qualified to be coaching a three-time winning national team? With all due respect, I've never heard of you before, and everybody assumed that we'd be getting Carmel High's ex-coach."

"I actually went to Carmel, and trained under Jesse St. James for my entire time there, so I'd like to think I picked up a few things. Does anybody have any other questions?" When nobody says anything, he grins and clasps his hands together. "Fantastic. So, I just wanted to start with a quick warm-up. 10 laps around the field, all four corners and no cutting."

As the Cheerios get up to start, Santana raises her arm. "Uh, Coach Sue never made us do laps. And even when she did, it was, like, 5 at the most."

"Tell you what, you can get a special one. While everyone does 10, you can do 5 extra, thanks to your warm welcome from before." Santana glares at him before jogging over to the start of the path, muttering expletives.

"That's impressive."

Blaine turns around to see Kurt sitting on the metal bleachers, tapping away on his phone. "Why aren't you out there doing the warm-up?"

Kurt snorts. "Please, I do that every morning before I even eat breakfast. Give me something that's a challenge, at least."

"Fine," Blaine retorts, "15 laps and 50 crunches."

"More," Kurt says, not looking up from his screen.

"And 50 sit-ups."

Kurt finally tucks his phone away in the outer pocket of his bag and stands up. "Hm, I suppose." He walks down the benches as he speaks. "I feel like you're going to enjoy the fact that you gave me extra laps, Coach."

"I don't particularly enjoy punishing my students, so no."

"Not because of that. You're going to enjoy it because it'll give you more time to check me out when you think I'm not looking." He throws Blaine a wink before jogging off, and Blaine just kinda stares at Kurt in confusion (while looking at his ass, of course).

-

"Kurt."

"Yes, Coach?" He's sitting on the ground with his legs spread as he stretches, bending forward as he holds onto his feet.

"Why aren't you in your regular uniform?"

"Because I felt like being a bit more free today," Kurt says easily, finishing his stretch and leaning back on his arms.

"Did Coach Sylvester let you wear the Cheerios skirt whenever you wanted?"

Kurt fingers the pleats of his skirt. "I was allowed to, but I never really had a reason until you showed up," he says lightly.

Blaine's gaze lingers a bit too long before he clears his throat, looking down at his clipboard. "Yes, well, Coach Sylvester informed me your special circumstances, so I'll allow it."

Kurt gets up and continues stretching, bending over to touch his toes. Blaine practically chokes when his skirt rides up and exposes his ass. He's wearing the Cheerios thong, flimsy red material that barely covers anything. "Kurt, do you really think this is appropriate?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Coach. I'm just doing my stretches." He spreads his legs apart wide and bends over to lay his palms flat on the grass. The movement spreads his cheeks wider apart, and Blaine can see a hint of his pussy, hardly covered by his underwear. He resists the urge to come up behind Kurt and grab his ass, slot his cock in between his legs and—

"Coach Anderson?" Blaine startles and turns around to find the other Cheerios all standing around, having finished their end laps. "Can we go? It's already 5:30."

"Of course, I apologize. I must've lost track of time." He casually places the clipboard in front of his shorts as he talks. "I'll see you all on Thursday."

They all pick up their bags and start to retreat to the locker room, leaving only Kurt and Blaine on the field.

"I'm sorry for distracting you," Kurt says with a smirk.

"You should be," Blaine says. "Wearing that fucking thong—god, _Kurt_ , what were you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I want to be fucked."

Blaine's arm with the clipboard is hanging loosely by his side, leaving the bulge in his shorts in plain sight. Kurt saunters forward and reaches for Blaine's hand, leading it to his ass. Blaine swallows thickly, not saying anything as his fingers instinctively squeeze, feeling the firmness of his cheeks.

Kurt sticks his hand down the waistband of Blaine's shorts, wrapping his fingers around his hard cock.

"Kurt," Blaine breathes out shakily, letting the clipboard drop to the ground and gripping Kurt's ass with both hands.

"Well, Coach Anderson, if I wasn't mistaken, I'd say that you're enjoying this," Kurt purrs, fist loose around Blaine's cock as he strokes.

"Please—"

Kurt tugs his pants down, lets them pool around his shoes as he gets down on his knees. He takes Blaine's cock in hand, his fingers wrapped around the base as he licks over the head with a sloppy-wet tongue. Blaine's whimpering as Kurt sucks him, taking him down into his throat with a seemingly practiced ease.

The sun is setting behind them, and they're hidden in the shadows behind the trees. Kurt pulls off with a wet sound that's too loud, and Blaine looks around warily to see if anyone's there.

Kurt stands up, leans close to Blaine and whispers into his ear. "How about we go to your office, finish this up? I bet you're aching to fuck me."

These words somehow startle Blaine into reality, into the realization that he's on the football field with his dick out because one of his Cheerios was just blowing him. "No, we're not going anywhere," Blaine says, stepping back and tugging his shorts back up. "I'm going home, and so are you. This was a mistake, Kurt, and I shouldn't have let it happen."

Blaine stands there with as much authority as a man with his hard cock clearly tugging at his pants.

-

Blaine tries to avoid Kurt after that, not giving him any special treatment, not staying back after the practice to talk to him, choosing instead to flee to his car and drive straight home.

But he can't avoid him when Kurt comes limping into the gym office, clutching onto the door as support. "Coach, I need your help. I think I pulled something."

Blaine looks up from his notebook, eyes Kurt skeptically. "What happened? You seemed fine during practice."

"There's a twisting sensation in my leg, and it keeps on getting worse when I walk." Kurt sniffs away a tear and god, Blaine is so fucked if there's actually something wrong with Kurt and he just brushes it off. He stands up and helps Kurt over to the couch at the side and hands him a pillow to support his head as he lies down.

"Where does it hurt?"

Kurt motions to his right calf. "The pain originated from there, but it's kinda shooting through my entire leg."

Blaine kneels on the ground next to the couch and reaches out for Kurt's leg. "May I?"

"Of course, Coach," Kurt all but purrs out, and Blaine chooses to ignore it, focusing on squeezing around his leg. He's applying gentle pressure everywhere and hears Kurt hiss out in pain when he touches the fleshy part of his calf where there's an unusual knot of tension. "It's fine, I think you just have a cramp. Let me help," Blaine says, massaging over it in tight circles, feeling the knot gradually unravel and loosen as he does so.

"Could you go a bit higher? There's still some pain in my thigh, I might've stretched it too far."

Blaine hesitantly slides his hands up Kurt's leg, reaches mid-thigh and starts gently massaging the soft skin. "There?"

"Mmm, yes," Kurt hums, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. "That feels so good, _oh_ —but you could probably still go a bit higher up." There's a spark of something in his eyes as he speaks, challenging Blaine.

Blaine inches up until his left hand brushes against the smooth curve of Kurt's ass, and he yanks his hands away as if he's been burned. "Um, so that helped?"

Kurt blinks his eyes open, a smile playing on his lips as he sits up. "Having you touch me definitely did. Actually, let me thank you for helping me, Coach," Kurt says, spreading his legs and yeah, it's straight out of a terrible porno, but it doesn't matter because Blaine isn't stopping him.

Kurt rubs slim fingers over his underwear, shows off to Blaine how they're damp with wetness. "Do you wanna see?"

Blaine just nods, eyes fixated between Kurt's legs and he gives Blaine a coy smile as he tugs his panties out of the way. He's shaved smooth, lips tinged with wetness, his clit sweetly swollen and hole shining even in the dim light of the gym office.Kurt passes a finger over his clit, gasping softly, and that's when Blaine loses it.

He lunges forward, pushes Kurt's own hands out of the way and licks a line up Kurt's pussy, revelling in the sweet, heady taste. "Do you want me to play with your little clit?" Blaine brushes his tongue over the swollen flesh, Kurt's hips jerking in response. He licks teasingly over it, small swipes of his tongue before he latches on and sucks greedily.

"Oh, Coach— _fuck_ ," Kurt cries out, his legs shaky as Blaine sucks sloppily on his clit, his tongue rubbing along the underside.

"Such a pretty cunt," Blaine murmurs, his breath hot against Kurt's skin. "So slutty and wet for me." He licks broadly up the centre, feeling Kurt's hole clench when his tongue passes over it.

Kurt's almost dizzy with arousal, throbbing under Blaine's touches and licks and still wanting more. His legs are starting to hurt, being held open unnaturally wide, but it's worth it as Blaine slips three fingers inside, taking a few seconds to stretch him before fucking them in harshly, pounding against his pussy.

He laps over Kurt's clit as he thrusts his fingers inside, pressing upward and making Kurt moan. The heat inside Kurt is building quick, his fingers curling into the skin of his thighs. There's a slight squeaking of the springs in the couch as Blaine fucks him, but Kurt's too far gone to care, clenching down around Blaine's fingers.

" _Oh fuck_ , Coach, I'm close—"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? Me touching this filthy pussy?" He's harsh with his words, even harsher with his actions as he fucks in faster, flicks his tongue restlessly over Kurt's swollen clit until Kurt cries out sharply, feeling everything burst inside him.

Kurt's back arches as he comes, head tipped back and exposing the long line of his throat. He's letting out weak gasps, slick lips perpetually open in a cry as Blaine doesn't stop licking, suckling on his clit. Kurt looks down to see Blaine's face still buried against his pussy, his nose brushing against his pubic mound.

Kurt's eyes widen when Blaine finally looks up-the bottom half of his face, along with the collar of his polo, is completely soaked. "You're messy, squirting all over my face."

Kurt's suddenly hyper-aware of the wetness coating his thighs, the slick sounds of Blaine storking his fingers against his pussy. "Oh, I'm sorry—"

"Don't be, you have such a sweet pussy that I didn't mind." He licks a few more times at Kurt's pussy to back up his words, tongue gliding against his slick-smooth folds and clumsily curling around his clit.

Blaine pulls back enough to tug his shorts down and off, take his cock in hand and rub it against Kurt's sopping cunt. "This pretty little pussy needs a cock inside, doesn't it?" He pushes the head teasingly against the clench of Kurt's hole, the fat head slick and messy with precome and Kurt's wetness.

"Yes, please," Kurt whines. Blaine's cock is right there and it's close, so fucking close to being inside him, filling him up where he needs it the most. He throbs at the thought, eyeing the thickness of Blaine's cock and imagining how it would stretch him so good, so _wide_.

Blaine finally starts to push inside at a achingly slow pace, watching the way Kurt's hole grips the head of his cock, stretches to take him in. He's a little more than halfway in when he pulls out completely, smirks at the slightest gape of Kurt's hole that's already evident. "Your pussy's so needy for my cock, so fucking wet and drooling everywhere." He taps his cock against Kurt's pussy, the slick slap of it obscenely loud in the silent room.

"Please, I—I want it," Kurt whines, not above begging.

"Touch yourself for me, sweetheart," is all Blaine says before pushing back inside. Kurt's quick to reach down and stroke over his clit, fingers slip-sliding over it and making the stretch that much sweeter.

Blaine thrusts in sharply the first few times, rocking his hips as he becomes familiar with the tight pull and grip of Kurt's pussy. "Such a fucking slut, been wanting this since I got here, haven't you? Been wanting me to touch this dirty cunt, fuck you until you beg for mercy?"

He starts pounding into him, totally disregarding Kurt and just using him. Kurt's crying out, starry-eyed and overcome with how good it is. He feels himself tense up, the heat in his stomach coil tighter and tighter as he rubs furiously at his clit, his moans growing louder and more frantic.

"Fuck— _fuck,_ oh," Kurt cries out, fingers leaving phantom bruises on his thighs with the strength of his grip as he comes. Blaine feels the pressure in Kurt's pussy mount and he pulls out just as Kurt squirts, gushing and soaking himself.

Blaine rubs his cock against Kurt's clit furiously, coaxing him to come again. "Do it, squirt all over my cock like the filthy boy you are."

Kurt sobs as he squirts again, juices splattering against Blaine's wrist and cock, making wet squelching noises. Blaine merely fucks back in, breath hitching as he works his hips.

He's sweating, his hairline damp and muscles straining the sleeves of his polo as he grips Kurt's hips tightly. Kurt, on the other hand, is sated from coming, with weak moans barely escaping as Blaine thumbs over his swollen clit.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come. Do you want me to come inside or pull out and shoot all over this dirty cunt?"

"Come on me, _please_ —" Kurt's face burns at how desperate he sounds for Blaine to mark him, to cover him with his come.

Blaine pulls out, one hand against the couch and holding himself up as the other jerks his cock quickly, tight, fast pulls focused around the head until he comes wetly and with a ragged moan. Thick strands of come ribbon out onto Kurt's hole and around his clit, the sticky mess smeared into his skin with Blaine's fingers.

"Are you in your office after every practice?" Kurt asks abruptly, looking up at Blaine.

"Usually, why?" There's a glint in his eye because he definitely likes where this is going.

Kurt pulls his panties back up before standing, a useless action because of how soaked and ruined they are. "Because I might have another muscle cramp that needs a massage. Or maybe, we could go outside and you could fuck me on the bleachers, Coach? I would bend over for you, hike my skirt up—"

Blaine cuts Kurt off with a kiss, hungry and desperate and heated. "Or we could go do that now."

Kurt takes Blaine's hand and guides it back underneath his panties. "I like the way you think."


End file.
